My Warrior
by SevIlyRemuDoraAlways
Summary: Maybe I should have stayed for you ,maybe we could have been one. Maybe we could have had a chance. Warning:Slash(Nothing explicit) Thorin/Thranduil


**Disclaimer: None of the Characters belong to me(unfortunately)**

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Thorin awoke to the sound of the swishing of a coat. He was positioned at the entrance of the cave to guard his Company, faithful sword near his hand.

He was a light sleeper, often awakened by a stray animal prowling through the forest, his hand would immediately fly to his sword and he'd be on his feet in a flash, searching for the source of the noise.

Today was no exception.

Any traces of bleary eyes and sleep-laden limbs were gone instantly and his sharp, alert eyes darted around as he slowly inched out of the cave, hardly daring to let out a breath. Turning in circles, he held his sword ready for an attack and fearlessly hissed, "Show yourself."

There was a pause, the air seemed to be charged with some ethereal form of power, and then, from behind a tall oak tree stepped out a slender, willowy figure in an elegant grey hooded cloak that cast shadows on its face, shielding it from view.

Thorin instantly tensed up, expecting the enemy to attack any moment. What he did not expect, was the hooded figure to speak.

"Warrior."

The voice was gentle, soft, wistful and familiar.

He knew that voice.  
But yet he didn't.  
He knew it from somewhere deep within his memories but it hovered uncertainly, refusing to rise to the surface.

"Reveal yourself." Thorin commanded authoritatively, a hint of unease beneath his calm facade.

The intruder lifted his pale hand to draw down the hood and as the shimmering moonlight illuminated his once hidden features, Thorin felt his heart thud to a stop.

Pure alabaster skin as smooth and flawless as the cloak of the Gods; wide blue eyes, brilliant like the full moon. High cheekbones, a dainty nose and a perfect pair of lips.

Long, flowing golden-white hair like spun moonlight, a trademark of the Elf Race.

"What do you seek here, Elvenking Thranduil."Thorin's voice was stiff with hostility and laced with resentment.

The Elvenking stood still for a moment, head tilted to one side in a brooding manner that Thorin had seen more than once when Thranduil had visited Erebor in the past, then took a hesitant step forward.

"I came to apologize."

Thorin let out a hiss of humourless laughter.

"Apologize for what? For letting Erebor fall without even putting up a fight? For letting my father's kingdom collapse? For refusing to aid us when we most needed it?"

Thranduil's expression was pained and guilty.

"I did not wish to sacrifice my men because I knew that the dragon Smaug would not be defeated. If I had tried, I would have failed."

"The sting of betrayal we felt. The disbelief, the anger, the disappointment when you turned your back on us will never be forgotten."

Thranduil's forehead creased in distress and his eyes seemed to shimmer with more than just the reflection of the moonlight.

"Will you ever know how it is like to look back and feel your heart weighed down by the regret and the helplessness you felt on the battlefield, wondering if it was the right choice to live when all that ever mattered was destroyed in a second?"

They were so close now. Thranduil could see the harsh, burdened lines of misery etched permanently on the dwarf's face, the corners of his mouth creased downwards from decades of frowning and fretting.

For once, he could see the vulnerability in those piercing dark eyes of his and guilt rose strongly in him, drowning him, clutching at his composed surface.

"It hurts me so."Thranduil's voice was barely a whisper in the cool night air.

"It hurts me to see you like this, struggling for revenge and the events of the past haunting you every day, every night.  
I keep thinking that maybe I should not have left, maybe I should have fought alongside you, so you would not detest me so much.  
Maybe I should have stayed for you ,maybe we could have been one.  
Maybe we could have had a chance." His voice trailed off until it was nothing more than a mere sigh, his eyes fixed on a distant spot above Thorin's head, refusing to meet his eyes.

Thorin remained still throughout Thranduil's declaration. His words swimming through his head, derailing his train of thought.

They were almost touching now, blue eyes staring unblinkingly into brown. A thousand emotions, sparks, unspoken words flew between them in a silent conversation.

Slowly, hesitantly, Thranduil raised a slender, trembling hand and gently rested it on Thorin's cheek. A touch as light as the brush of a butterfly's wings, yet it sent a thousand volts of electricity through Thorin, unleashing and awakening emotions that had been lying dormant in him for a long time.

The world seemed to freeze, to stop, to melt away, so that there was only the two of them stuck in their position of graceful intimacy.

Thorin tried to speak, but no words came out, tried to find his anger but it was slowly slipping away under Thranduil's touch. He was at a loss. He was lost.

To give in to his hatred and seek revenge or to give in to his emotions and listen to his heart.

He felt like he was being wrenched apart brutally, forced to make a difficult choice.

But as Thranduil's slim fingers traced Thorin's cheekbones longingly and delicately brushed a messy braid of hair out of his face, he realised that there wasn't really a choice to make.

What he truly ever wanted was right there in front of him.

He could remember those times when he was just a young warrior in his grandfather's court, standing by his side when he set his eyes on the most beautiful face he had ever seen.

Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm, with his air of majestic grace and authority had instantly captivated him and every time their eyes met, Thorin would find his heart rate quickening slightly.

He thought all of that had vanished after Thranduil's refusal to help them.

But now, standing in front of probably the only person he had ever wanted, he could feel an old beast of love, lust and longing awakening within him.

And then within seconds, although it felt like a lifetime, Thorin closed his eyes and tilted his chin upwards just as Thranduil lowered his.

Their lips met softly, gently, and it was sweet, passionate, shy kiss. Thranduil's pale fingers delicately cradling Thorin's strong jaws as their lips melded together in burning hunger and lust.

A thousand brilliant fireworks exploded behind Thorin's eyelids and he could feel a radiant beauty all around him, shining brighter than any gem, enveloping him in a sense of enchanting, indescribable wonder and awe.

Their lips slowly parted and Thranduil exhaled slightly, his breath warm on Thorin's face. Thranduil pulled him closer until their foreheads were touching and pressed a light, promising kiss onto the smaller man's nose, stripping away all the doubt, hatred, anger and betrayal that had built up over the last few decades.

'_I pledge my heart to you, Thorin Oakenshield_.' Thranduil's serene smile was more luminous than the full moon, filled with a magical, inhumane beauty that stilled Thorin's young, beating heart.


End file.
